


Reminder

by foreveryours



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Post Reichenbach, Romance, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreveryours/pseuds/foreveryours
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moriarty is back from the dead with the sore mission to cause Sherlock emotional pain, causing him to make a fatal choice over his own happiness or his best friend's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a usual boring day at St. Barts. Molly had worn her hair up in a high ponytail and a side parting, she had favoured that style the most since Sherlock had complimented her on it. Sherlock was bored after an argument he had with John and so decided to see if Molly had any news or possible part parts that would add to his already large collection of experiments.

Molly was standing near the autopsy table, currently stitching up a body. Sherlock had already guessed the body's age and marital status by the first glance but as usual Sherlock was quiet when walking into the morgue and as usual Molly was surprised.

"Sherlock!" She greeted him with glee and glanced behind him quickly noticing the absence of his friend. "Where's John?" She asked with wariness. Ever since the 'event' as Molly liked to delicately put it she had become nervous when Sherlock approached her on his own.

"Him and I had a disagreement."Sherlock asked with a tone on stubbornness.

"Oh no, not a another little domestic." She giggled, using it constantly after she heard Mrs. Hudson use it once when Molly had come by the flat.

"It was not a domestic!" Sherlock snapped "He's moving out."

"Why is he doing that?" She asked, placing the needle and silk thread down upon the table. "You're like the dynamic duo."

"He's planning on marrying Mary." Sherlock answered with disgust.

"Oh that's absolutely wonderful!" Molly said, clapping her hands in delight. "Has he already proposed?"

"No, he's planning to tonight."

"Well give him my luck."

"Tell him yourself. Apparently to him, we're not talking anymore."

"You two are like children."

"Children don't solve cases and get married, Molly."

"Yes, of course, but Sherlock, if you're only here to complain I'd rather you leave my morgue."

"But there's nothing else to do." Sherlock whined.

"That doesn't mean you're allowed to distract me at my job." Molly scolded.

"Your shift finished an hour ago Molly."

"Yes well it's people like you that will keep me here for an hour more. Now please Sherlock, please go." She said picking up her needle and thread once more.

"Did I say something...not good?" Sherlock asked suddenly wary, it was harder to know without John reminding him.

"No, it's not that Sherlock." Molly sighed "I'm just tired and I still need to finish this before I leave."

"Fine. I guess I'll just have to wait for a another serial killer to be on the loose" Sherlock said, clearly unamused.

"Remember to be nice to John!" Molly called out after him.

Molly paused momentarily waiting until she saw Sherlock's shadow vanish from the hall and then went back to stitching up the body. She had hoped that was all she needed to do but someone had other ideas.

"Wow Molly, I never knew you were such a good actress." A soft, sickeningly similar, Irish voice taunted from the side office.

"Look, I've gotten rid of Sherlock now leave me alone." Molly said with a determined tone. She would do anything from letting this happen again.

"Oh, darling. I never did get a chance to tell you want I really wanted." Moriarty whispered, letting his breath dance on the back of her neck as he swept some hair to the side.

"Well, what do you want?" She hesitantly asked, cringing slightly at his closeness.

"No no, not now. The game just got quite interesting." He said dropping her hair and taking a step back.

"You leave Sherlock alone!" Molly commanded, whipping around viciously to face him.

"Oh I'm not going to do anything to Sherlock or his little blogger for that matter. I just need one thing from you, sweetie."

"What is it?" Molly asked, as she wiped her sweaty palms together, slowly turning to nervous wreck.

"Just drink this." Moriarty replied whilst holding a mug of what looked like tea. "it's the way you like it, two sugars and milk."

Molly said nothing, did nothing. She was too afraid to ask why and too afraid to take the mug.

"Let me, force your hand if you will, drink the tea or..." Moriarty trailed off and quickly brought a gun to her temple "Die. Which is it to be, Mols?"

Molly silently took the mug and started to gulp down the warm tea or the while Moriarty's cool gun pressed against her head only removing it when she had drank all of the contents of the mug.

"Now don't you do anything stupid, Molly, I have eyes and ears all around. You tell anyone I was here and I'll blow something up. Oh I'm not going to tell you what just yet, could be the hospital, could be Lestrade's office, could be 221B, could be anywhere. Let's just say I have reinforcement on hand that deliver quickly. Bye Mols!" He waved as he left the morgue, leaving Molly is a petrified state.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty's cup of tea is certainly not Molly's and doesn't go down well.

Molly was on edge the next day, she was frightened that Moriarty would come back for something more. She tiptoed into the morgue, checking around her first before she got to work. If Moriarty could fake his own death, then hide out in her morgue, he could certainly be here again if he wanted to.

After she had thoroughly checked every nook and cranny in the morgue she tried to get some work done. She had not been able to do the paper work for Mr. Lancaster last night as she had turned into a teary eyed pool of pulp once regaining her movement and voice after Moriarty little visit. She went to her desk and began the paper work but only an hour into it Sherlock burst through the door, causing Molly to jump and emit a tiny squeak of terror.

"Molly? What are you doing there, Lestrade said you'd have Miss Baines' body ready for us by now." Sherlock asked, slightly annoyed at her lack of preparation.

Molly slid the paper work to one side and looked at her list for the day, he was in fact telling the truth, she was her first body of the day. She sighed and stood up from her chair swaying slightly. Head rush she blamed it and began to make her way to where the body was placed. "I'm sorry Sherlock, I had to get Mr. Lancaster's paper work finished before I could begin with my dailies."

Sherlock tilted his head to the side in a point of confusion. "I thought you did the paper work last night?" He asked curiously at the irregularity.

"Well I didn't...I...I didn't feel too well after you left so I had to push it back until this morning. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry Mol, he has that effect on all of us."

"What?" Molly went into a panic, thinking they already knew about Moriarty's return. "No, I didn't say-"

"John, this is hardly the time for your little jabs." Sherlock scolded.

Molly glanced between the two men, relief washing over her as she realised that it was a joke. "Oh" She nervously chuckled "You were referring to Sherlock. I see."

"Who else would I be referring to?" John asked, glancing at Sherlock and then back to Molly, trying to see if he had missed something.

"No one, I just thought...never mind." She replied dismissively.

"If you have quit your rambling Molly, we would like to see the body."

"Yes, right." Molly said as she moved to get the body. "Oh John, I never asked! How did your-" Molly tried to say before she began coughing.

"You alright Molly?" John asked, slightly concerned for the pathologist. While in contrast Sherlock couldn't look more bored.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I've just got a bit of a sore throat I guess." Molly just managed to croak out as she went to get a glass of water. "Sorry about that. Anyway how did your proposal go? Sherlock told me last night."

"Oh! Very well, I mean she said yes."

"Congratulations! That's great."

"Yes, isn't it just?" Sherlock said with mock enthusiasm "Now, Molly if you could please prepare the body!" He snapped getting more irritated at the both of them with each millisecond that past by whilst they blabbed on.

Molly prepared the body for them as quick as she could and then took a step back to allow Sherlock and John to assess the situation. "58. Single, widowed, he died a while ago, almost 11 years ago. She decided against remarrying, loyal to her husband. Dirt under the nails and greasy hair, she didn't care for her appearance. Traces of dog left on her skin, scent and partially in her hair, 11 years on her own, she must have wanted company. Wedding finger has no indent so she must have taken off the ring shortly after her husband's death, but why? She was so loyal to her husband why take it off?"

"She must have wanted to keep it safe." John piped up, tearing his gaze away from Molly who was currently looking very pale and opening and closing her hands repetitively. "Molly, are you sure you're alright?" John asked again, ignoring her last answer.

"John, stay focused. Molly is-" Sherlock stopped suddenly, taking a proper look at the pathologist. He stared at her carefully for a few minutes before striding around the table and head on towards her making Molly back up against the wall of the morgue as he silently scrutinizing her and softly placing his hand either side of her face. "Molly, you need to be truthful with me now." His tone had changed completely, it was no longer exasperated or irritated, instead it was calm and soft yet still held strong. "Tell me what you have taken?"

Molly was trapped in a corner, literally. She knew Sherlock would be furious if she lied to him, especially about drugs but she knew that if she said anything about Moriarty everyone's lives could be at risk. She quickly tried to fumble a sentence together. "I- I didn't take anything." She rushed out.

"You're lying." Sherlock stated.

Molly tried to free her head and squirmed under his hold but to no avail. "Sherlock don't-"

"You swayed when you got up, had a sore throat, pins and needles, and now you've got extremely dilated pupils." He leaned in closer staring her down with his cold eyes that could pierce the soul "You're. Lying." he growled out.

Molly was like a deer in the headlights, petrified to move or even utter a syllable. She simply shook her head, and didn't bare say another word that would only make everything worst. "Sherlock, please" She whispered, tears brimming on the edges of her eyes as she gave a faint push to make him let go of her.

Luckily for Molly John was there. John was quick at hand and led Sherlock away from her, murmuring to Sherlock to keep calm before quickly turning his attention to Molly. "Molly, it's for the best that you tell us what you've taken, so we can help." He said soothingly as he led her away from the wall and into her side office, Sherlock remaining in the main area of the morgue out of stubbornness.

"John, I can't."

"Can't what, Molly?"

"I-I just can't." She whined again, stuck for words. She didn't even want to try and get away with small hints to tell them. She knew that if she messed up she would have everyone's blood on her hands. With that disturbing thought she felt as if someone had bashed her head in, she had a splitting headache now to top in all off. She clutched her head in hands, whimpering from the pain wanting it to desperately go away.

"Sherlock!" John shouted from Molly's side, immediately checking her pulse and breathing. Sherlock ran in and stared at them both.

"Make it stop, please." She cried helplessly.

Sherlock stood infront of her lifting her chin so she would look at him. "Molly, you have to tell me the symptoms." He ruthlessly commanded her, he didn't have time to be nice, he needed answers.

"Headache, nausea, err, pin and needles, vision slightly impaired, and I feel faint."

"Arsenic." Sherlock whispered mostly to himself. "Molly did you take arsenic!"

She didn't know what to say. If she said yes he would hate her, be furious with her, and loathe her to the ends of the earth and possibly more if he ever found out that she had lied to him about it. If she said no, he would surely know. She looked at him with a pained and desperate expression before hoarsely cried out and collapsed to her knees.

Sherlock quickly grabbed her and carried out of the morgue and up to the hospital, he knew it was critical for Molly to get arsenic treatment or soon her organs would start shutting down. Sherlock's mind buzzed, with a hundred questions, urgently trying to make sense of why Molly would take arsenic and why she would lie to him about it? What she had meant when she looked at him? Her usual cheerful expression filled with such pain had been haunting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for leaving Kudos! Very much appreciated. Beta'd by my good friend pikachow


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock pays Molly a visit in the hospital.

Once John had made certain to Sherlock that Molly was in the right hands they both returned to 221B to discuss the case and Molly's rapid fall in health.

Even before John had set a foot into the apartment Sherlock was on the phone.

"Lestrade, search Miss Baines' house. She must have the ring in her house somewhere. Think of everywhere a woman would try and hide something or keep it safe. Tell me when you find it." Sherlock instructed down the phone and hung up before Lestrade could get a word in. "Right now that's sorted."

John shuffled to sit in his usual chair, flopping down and staring off into space obviously deep in thought. Sherlock paced around the flat and suddenly stopped and turned to John. "We've ran out of Milk, John."

"Hmm?" John hummed as he was pulled out of his thought process. "Wait, what?"

"I said we've ran out of milk."

"Oh and I suppose you want me to run out and get some them eh?"

Sherlock remained silent as he stared at John for a moment. "Yes, I thought that was implied. Was it not?"

"Hang on a minute...I got milk this morning. We had milk this morning. What have you done with it?" John said as he stood up and made his way to the fridge.

"Nothing." Sherlock said quickly before John could see the milk still placed on the second shelf as it was this morning.

"Oh I see." John said catching onto Sherlock idea. "'Get John out the house for half an hour so Sherlock can ruin the flat trying to find his cigarettes' Well you won't find them, Sherlock."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't try and play dumb, Sherlock." John warned.

Immediately, as if on cue, Sherlock, started to ransack the apartment. Turning over every pillow and piece of paper that was in his way. Like a hurricane destroying everything in its path, ultimately leaving John in a bewildered and shocked state.

"You know you're going to have to put all this back…right?" John sighed with exasperation at his friend.

"Well if you tell me where they are-" Sherlock replied while continuing his destructive search.

"You don't need them!"

"Yes. I. Do." Sherlock said, in frustration added emphasis on each word, cutting it sharp and to the point.

"What for?!" John replied outraged at the thought to point where he felt the need to shake his hands and Sherlock.

"For Molly!" Sherlock snapped pausing momentarily before looking around some more. "Think John, why did she have arsenic in her system? Of all the drugs she could have chosen, why arsenic?!"

John flopped back down into his chair in an epiphany. "Sherlock, are you suggesting that Molly tried to..." He trailed off not wanting to utter the word after seeing Sherlock all those years ago.

"I don't know, John." Sherlock sighed, finally giving up on the cigarettes and sitting in his own chair.

"Do you think it might have been accidental poisoning? I mean come on, Molly isn't the type to even consider...you know."

Sherlock remembered vividly of the day he jumped and how when he told her thought he was going to die she remained calm and simply, courageously asked what he needed. He also remembered many days after that when she had helped him too, days where he would stroll in with cuts and bruises and she would tend to them calmly or here he announced she could be under attack and she followed his ever order precisely. 

"You'd be surprised how much Molly can stick on a brave face." Sherlock said as his mind wandered. "Why didn't she just tell me though? Why did she lie to me?" he continued, snapping back into reality.

"Maybe it's because she knew you had a history with drugs and didn't want to get you involved?" John replied.

"Why would my history with drugs have any effect on her decision to tell me about her intake?" Sherlock asked, they idea was completely absurd to him.

"Maybe because she cares about you, believe it or not."

"Why?" Sherlock asked again mostly to himself.

"I have no idea, no one knows what that girl sees in you." John said, now talking to himself.

"It's so out of character of her, she would usually tell me anything if I demanded it." Sherlock said ignoring John and carrying on with his deductions aloud.

"I mean it could be the cheekbones..." John trailed off.

"I even proved her wrong. I knew she was lying and she still dismissed it."

"Maybe it's your allusiveness."

"It's a mystery." They said simultaneously, coming back to reality and realising that neither one had listened to the other.

Sherlock and John decided to go back to the hospital later on in the day to check on Molly and see if they could get more answers. The nurses initially put up protests against them both seeing Molly at this time, they had confirmed that she did indeed have arsenic poisoning after taking samples and tests as well as assuring them that Miss Hooper had under gone Hemodialysis and stomach irrigation after finding out that the arsenic had been ingested.

John looked over to Sherlock to gage his expression but Sherlock did nothing and merely took in the information calmly. They proceeded into Molly room after refusing to leave.

She was sleeping soundly when they arrived at her room, John suggested that they should leave and comeback tomorrow at appropriate visiting times but Sherlock ignored him and insisted on staying with her.

"Sherlock you can't just stay here the night. They'll kick you out, surely."

"Inform Mycroft of the situation and explain I can't have any disturbances unless they are vital for Molly's Health. I would be happy to co-operate with the hospital."

"Fine." John sighed, deciding against pushing this further. "I'll come by in the morning."

Sherlock merely nodded and proceeded to take the seat near Molly's bed as John walked down the hall, phone in hand dialling Mycroft's number.

The nurses in the hospital were very nice to him after that, offering him a pillow to rest his head or coffee. None of them could make it as well as Molly, he noted. He stared at her for a while, trying to get inspiration to why there was arsenic in her body and if taken purposefully then why Molly of all people? Questions still floated around his head but they were reminders, nothing was as terribly urgent as they were before. Molly was safe at the moment, sleeping softly infront of him where he could keep an eye on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the Kudos :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly has a horrifying nightmare that chill her to her bones and Sherlock finds out something knew.

Molly was running down the hall of St. Barts towards her morgue, she could hear the manic laugh and sound of heels hitting the floor in a vicious pace towards her. She ran inside and shut the door behind her pushing the autopsy table against it as a barricade. She then hide in her side office, squeezing under her desk and pulled the chair up close as protection hoping her chaser wouldn't see her.

The morgue door open with a thud and crash as the autopsy table flew across the room and crashed into the body freezer draws. She squeaked in fright but clasped her hand over her mouth to keep quiet as her chaser came to a halt, sniffing the air like a hound from Hell come to drag her to the underworld. From where she was sat she could catch a glimpse of the chaser's feet. Pacing around the morgue and then slowly into the side office.

She didn't dare breathe as she helplessly watched the chaser's feet go past her and deeper into the side office but before she could breathe a sigh of relief the chaser pulled the chair away with one hand whilst gripping her by her ankle in the other. He ripped her out from under the desk and held her leg up so she had little movement to get away.

Moriarty's face was smiling clown-like in a way that bared too much teeth and looked crazed. In contrast his eyes were dull, like the life was sucked out of them. He dragged her across the floor of the morgue as if she were a rag doll, her attempts to claw away were futile.

She screamed and screamed, screamed at him to stop, screamed for Lestrade, screamed for John, screamed for Sherlock to rescue her. She looked up and suddenly they were all there. Outside of the morgue, behind the glass on the other side watching her get dragged continuously. They stared at her with looks of offence, anger, and hate but remain motionless.

Moriarty had now grown to be a giant, he had to crouch down to fit in the room, his head still pressed against the ceiling. Slowly he lifted her up and without word flung her mercilessly into one of the freezer draws. He laughed robotically that lasted longer than it should have as he hovered over her, clown-like grin slapped across his face. She screamed again in a last minute hope as he closed the freezer draw on her and she was engulf in ear-splitting silence.

 

It was the middle of the night and Molly had woken up in a fright after being released from her nightmare. Breathe heavily in panic and grasping her bed sheets desperately assuring her brain that they were real. Sherlock came to her side in a flash that made her release a small scream in shock at him being here.

"Molly calm down." He uttered in a stern and calm tone. "Molly, look at me. Look at me." He commanded but she couldn't, not after what she had just experienced. "Molly. Look at me!" He commanded again in a stricter tone and she did out of fear of his tone.

She saw the life in his eyes, his beautiful blue-green eyes. She saw the concern, the worry, and even the fear that was portrayed in them. It was at that point when her brain had fully clicked, seeing the life in him was the kick she needed to know that she was no longer in her nightmare and it was at that point where she collapsed in his arms.

"Oh Sherlock!" She whispered unsteadily.

"My god you're shaking." He exclaimed as he held her. He was always one for personal space except when needed to get answers but the sight of her like this made him understand that she needed someone. "You're safe now, Molly. No one is going to hurt you. I assure you."

She gave a small whimper at the last part, being reminded that at any moment Moriarty could come in and do something to her and this time it would most likely be worse than making her a funny tasting cup of tea. Molly held back the sobs that were racking through her body, but she passed them by as erratic breaths.

He pulled away from the embrace and held her at arm's length, trying to deceiver if now was the best time to ask her some questions about the arsenic. Instead he decided to give her the decision by explaining his situation.

"Molly, I understand that this might not be the best of times with your nightmare eating away at your nerves but I do have some questions for you. You don't have to answer them right now though, please know that."

"I-I guess I don't mind answering a few of them." She replied twisting her fingers into knots, honestly she just wanted to talk and possibly have a distraction for a while.

"Molly why was their arsenic inside of your body?" Sherlock asked cutting straight to the point.

Molly was taken back at first, only just remembering Sherlock had previously mentioned arsenic when she was in pain. She shuddered momentarily at the thought, remembering the pain and shook her head to make the memory go away. Sherlock placed a comforting hand on her knee and awaited the answer.

"Sherlock-" She started.

"Please be truthful with me, Molly." He pleaded with her but she said nothing in response. He decided to tackle the question with smaller parts. "Did you take the arsenic on purpose, Molly? I won't be angry and I won't hate you. I just- if you did then why? Why would you even think about that?"

She was at a loss, she didn't know what she could and couldn't say without it all ending in pieces.

"I can't remember." She stated simply as she brought her knees to her chin in defence.

Sherlock sighed at her answer and tried to re-word the question. "Do you have any…motive to take harmful drugs on purpose?"

'Yes.' She thought silently. 'Moriarty would kill you.'

"No." She lied quickly.

"Molly, we're here to help you. You can confide in anyone of us."

"I know, Sherlock. I know, okay? I can't really talk about it though." She replied vaguely.

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but thought against it and closed his mouth quickly before Molly could see. "I'm sorry, Molly." He stated simply.

Molly was almost in shock at what she had just heard. She turned to stare at him, he rarely said that to anyone with such sincerity but she could see it in his eyes and face. With that he stood and walked out of her room. Molly stared after him but knew he wasn't going to come back anytime soon so she slipped back under the cover and tried to fall to sleep, hoping another nightmare wouldn't hinder her again.

It was early morning and the sun streamed into Molly's room. Sherlock was returning only quickly to check on her before he would carry on with his case. He quietly stepped inside the room and checked the perimeter and windows. Nothing odd seems out of place until his eyes landed upon a small envelope on Molly's beside table which wasn't placed their in his previous visit. He quickly flipped it over to see the handwriting and work out which of Molly's friends had given it to her but instead of Molly's name being on the envelope it was his own. He ripped it open and read the message quickly.

"Moriarty." He gasped staring at the message in horror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for leaving Kudos! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John discuss the note and someone decides to pay them and Molly Hooper a visit.

"The game will always continue." John said slowly as he read the message again.

Sherlock, once immediately leaving the hospital, had given it to him in the early hours of the morning, bounding up the stairs and shouting at John to get up.

"Well what does it mean?" John asked perplexed just the same as he was this morning.

"Oh come on, John. Moriarty. He's alive."

John was silent for a moment, taking in the news properly. "But that's not possible." He explained with a small shake of his head. "That's impossible." He said once more trying to confirm it to himself more than anyone else. "You said he was dead, you said to me, the day you got back, that Moriarty had killed himself and you had spent the last three years tracking down his men. You said all of this."

"John, please remember that I'm not dead either. If I can cheat death then so can he."

"Okay then so what do we do now? We know he's alive and that's about it from what I've gathered."

Sherlock stared at the card intently but found nothing unusual from it, nothing that could help distinguish where it came from. Moriarty didn't want to be found…yet.

John moved to the kitchen to make some tea as it was obvious that they were getting nowhere with Sherlock's new found discovery whilst Sherlock sat down in his chair with an audible sigh, running his hands through his curly black locks trying to stimulate his brain more.

There were a few moment of silence with the distant clicks of teacups and spoons of John preparing tea before Mrs Hudson called from downstairs. "Sherlock! You've got a letter here."

Sherlock didn't bother to move and completely ignored Mrs Hudson. "Sherlock, are you not going to get the letter?" John asked as he put the tea down on the table.

"What?" Sherlock asked as he came back to reality.

"Sherlock, this came for you, dear." Mrs Hudson announced as she came into the room.

"Oh right, thank you Mrs Hudson." Sherlock said as he stood and inspected the letter. "No address."

John sipped at his tea. "What?" He asked as he placed the cup beck into the saucer.

"No address. Just my name."

"It was hand delivered then?"

"Must have been, there's no other way. Mrs Hudson did you happen to notice the postman today? Did he seem suspicious?"

"Not that I saw, no." Mrs Hudson shrugged then wrung her hands together for not being more of a help.

"You don't think it's him then do you?" John asked as he slipped into his chair.

"It seems quite likely."

Sherlock and John shared a look of caution before Sherlock opened the envelope. "Same type of paper" Sherlock noted and his rubbed his thumb over it to check. Sherlock began to read the message aloud. "Dear Mr Holmes. I will always choose the game and this time I choose cat and mouse. Oh by the way, you're little pet is quite the charm. Such a shame we broke it off." There was a beat before it hit Sherlock. "Molly!" He shouted in a panic and hurtled down the stairs.

John jumped of the chair and leapt for his coat as his followed Sherlock and abandoned his tea. Mrs Hudson left standing in the 221B sitting room helplessly.

* * *

Sherlock ignored the nurses screaming at him to come back as he ran to Molly room. Whilst John, a few steps behind him, tried to keep up apologising profusely for their actions.

"Molly!" Sherlock called out for her as he entered the room. "Molly, are you alright?" He asked as he cradled her head in his hands and checked on her quickly. Pulling back once he knew she was alright.

"Yes. W-why? What's going on?" She asked pulling her bed sheets up in defence.

"John, get Mycroft on the phone." Sherlock commanded as he disregarded Molly's question.

"Sherlock could you please-" Molly tried once again but wasn't successful. She watched Sherlock pace as he pulled out his phone and dial a number.

"Lestrade, the woman hid the ring in her air purifier, it's taped into the filter." He revealed to Lestrade still pacing around the room. "Now we need every man you've got. Moriarty is back and we have reason to believe he's out for Molly."

"Sherlock!" Molly shouted from her bed, desperate to get an answer. "Stop. Tell me what's going on." She pleaded.

"Moriarty is after you."

"No. N-no he's not." Molly covered up quickly and swallowed hard. "I took the arsenic on purpose Sherlock." She said hoping to lead him off the track.

"Oh stop lying, you would never do such a thing. Moriarty has told us that he is back and that he's out for you but we're getting everything under control."

"Sherlock, Mycroft is on the phone." John said popping his head back in and jiggling the phone towards Sherlock. Sherlock went toward to grab the phone and then went back to his pacing. John came to sit next to Molly.

"I'm sorry about all the palaver, Mols. We're just taking some necessary precautions." He said with a soft smile.

"Mycroft I need Molly's security level raised immediately, Moriarty is out for her." There was a pause as Mycroft replied to Sherlock, Molly still watched Sherlock intently.

"Well apparently we're taking every single precaution there is but don't you threat Moriarty isn't going to come within a mile of Barts." John comforted her.

Molly scoffed at John's comment without realising it, whether it be shock or she was losing her mind, she had never meant to be rude. "Oh god." She gasped as she covered her mouth with her hand. "I-I'm so sorry John! I never – Sorry – I just. I'm just a bit frightened."

"It's alright Molly, I understand."

Sherlock grunted in frustration as he handed the phone back to John.

"What's happening then?" John asked.

"Mycroft has decided to pay us a visit." Sherlock replied with disgust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by pikachow. Also thank to everyone who left Kudos! Really appreciate them :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft visits Molly in the hospital.

There was a stillness in the air as Sherlock's statement hung about like some rancid odour. Sherlock had said it with such distain and disgust like the words were acid in his mouth. The whole situation of this seemed a bit too much for Molly. She just wanted to go home to Toby and curl up watching the rest of Glee with that another thought struck her.

"Toby!" She gasped in horror as she realised she had left the cat unattended for nearly two days.

"It's been sorted." Sherlock stated as he kept his eyes glued to his phone. Obviously busy texting someone for information or something along those lines.

"What? When?" Molly asked, confused.

"I had him collected by a near cat hotel once we had booked you into the hospital."

"Oh…" Molly said as she relaxed back into the hospital bed. "Thanks."

"Welcome."

"Why is Mycroft coming to visit then?" John asked from Molly's side, perched on the edge of the bed.

"He wants to 'assess the situation' as he puts it." Sherlock said dismissing it with a wave of his hand.

"So he's just left Molly's security level down while he visits?" John asked taken back at the absurd thought.

"Oh no, he raised it at my mention of course." Eyes still glued to the phone.

Molly watched the men converse as panic slowly raised in her stomach. She was going to face Mycroft again. Mycroft to her was worse than Sherlock. With Sherlock you knew your place, Sherlock was always very blunt saying what was on his mind, void of the situation, as if his subconscious filter was missing. But Mycroft was different. His eyes lacked passion, glazed over with the secrecy that came with the government. Although always polite, Mycroft was an enigma to Molly, she never knew what was behind that bittersweet smile.,

"So why does he want to 'assess the situation'?" John said putting air quotes around Sherlock's explanation. "What does that even mean?"

"It usually entails a discussion with the client at risk."

"So basically he wants to talk to Molly."

"Basically." Sherlock confirmed as he moved to the armchair across from Molly's bed.

"W-what do you mean he wants to talk to me? Why would he want to talk to me?"

"He just wants to know who he is protecting."

"You mean he's going to be judging me? L-like some dog at Crufts?"

"Well that's one way to see it." Sherlock commentated at Molly's simile for the event.

"Sherlock!" John chided.

"What?" Sherlock asked oblivious to the implied insult.

Molly ignored the beginnings and John and Sherlock's argument and went down to her most basic and feared point. "What is he going to even ask me?" She wanted to be prepared and not be a doe in the headlights this time.

"Just a few ordinary questions." Sherlock shrugged.

"What do you mean by ordinary? Like ordinary ordinary or Sherlock Holmes ordinary." Molly questioned trying to get a detailed answer out of him.

"Ordinary Questions Molly, please will you stop fretting you'll get wrinkles."

"Have you ever met Mycroft before, Molly?" John wondered aloud.

"A few times. The first being when I looked over that woman's body, the one at Christmas."

"Ahhh miss Irene Alder." John confirmed for the girl. "What were the other times then?" he pressed.

"Just a few when Sherlock was playing…dead." Molly said hesitantly spitting out the word that left a foul taste in her mouth. No one liked to talk about Sherlock's death, especially John of all people.

"Right." John nodded, not wanting to talk about the sensitive matter.

"I see we're all still congregated in Miss Hooper's room. Funny, I thought I would be able to talk to Miss Hooper alone."

"It's Doctor Hooper actually" Sherlock said as he stood, you could almost smell the alpha male competition in the room "and anything you have to say to Molly you can say infront of me."

Molly knew that it was best to remain quiet in the Holmes brother's conversations unless asked a question directly to which she must 'not blunder' as Mycroft had once put it. After that she had learnt her lesson.

"My apologies Doctor Hooper." Mycroft said with a sickeningly sweet smile. "and of course, brother but had it ever occurred to you that Doctor Hooper might want the privacy?"

All heads turned to Molly.

"I don't mind Sherlock or John being here, if I feel I need privacy I will ask for it."

"Actually I think I'll get some coffee." John said giving Molly a pat on the back as he got up to leave the room. Obviously not wanting to be caught in the middle of the silent feud.

Sherlock gave her a withering yet amazed glance before turning back to his brother. "You may proceed with the questions." Sherlock replied told his stand before returning to the armchair. Mycroft remained standing as if to have his authority over them known.

"Ordinary questions Mi-Doctor Hooper, I assure you."

Molly gave a brief nod before allowing Mycroft to continue twisting her fingers into knots in her lap.

"What is your past relation to Jim Moriarty?" Mycroft asked bluntly.

"You know what that is! Next question." Sherlock commanded before Molly could get a word in edge wise.

"I believe I asked Doctor Hopper, brother." Mycroft said as he turn his head expectantly to Molly.

"He was my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend now. Only went on a couple of dates." Molly clarified.

"How did he contact you in the first place?"

"Through a blog of mine."

"Has he made any contact after you terminated the relationship?"

'fuck' Molly thought. "Next Question." She said in her calmest voice possibly not wanting to neither confirm nor deny it.

Sherlock looked at her in confusion at her response while Mycroft raised an eye-brow before moving onto the next question.

"Do you believe Moriarty has any reason to come after you?"

"No but this Moriarty. It could be revenge for many things some related to Sherlock others not. I really don't know much though."

"That's it. Thank you Doctor Hooper, if we need any more information my assistant will be in touch."

Sherlock cleared his throat in response.

"Although I'm sure my brother will let you know if you are needed." Mycroft continued before he moved to leave the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the Kudos, really appreciate them. Comments are welcome as well :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly leaves the hospital and someone intrudes into her home, ending in confusing and painful consequences.

Few days had passed since Mycroft's visit to the hospital and everything had been quiet. Nothing much had happened, Molly got discharged from the hospital and Sherlock tried to prove a point.

It was just gone passed 7 by the time they gave Molly the all clear to leave. John had waited patiently for Molly to get ready and leave in her own time whilst Sherlock who didn't have John's temperament had left after 7 minutes exactly, stating that Molly was now over the average time limit of someone getting out.

The night was clear and crisp. It was a perfect night to look at the stars she noted as she stared dreamily up at the sky, getting a good look at them all. The taxi ride was pretty quick from the hospital and was only filled with small and polite chit chat between her and John.

"Molly are you sure you'll be alright in your flat alone?" John asked as the taxi reached Molly's apartment.

"I think it would be a bit too disorientating if I moved somewhere else. You know?" John merely nodded at the statement. "I really just want to take all of this stuff one step at a time, the attention and drama aren't really my things."

After the drug poisoning John thought it was customary to help Molly up the stairs. He kept an eye on her watching if she wavered at any time. Instantly ready to catch if needs be.

"Okay, well be safe." John said as he moved in to give her a reassuring hug. "And don't hesitate to call if you need any help or someone to talk to. I mean it must get pretty lonely in that flat all by yourself."

"Oh well I have Toby, he's good enough company." Molly replied gesturing inside.

"Alright, Molly. See you around then."

"Bye John." She replied giving a small wave as she watched him go back down the stairs.

Molly turned to and let herself in, everything was perfectly normal, exactly how she left it. She gave a sigh a relief and put the thoughts of seeing her home ransacked to rest. Toby weaved through her legs leaving an endless supply of cat hair on the bottom of her trousers. She leaned down to give him a grateful scratch before she moved to have a shower, wanting to get out of her old clothes and hospital stench.

After having a desperately needed shower, Molly then moved into the comfort of her own bed. The night was still young but she needed the comfort of sleep. She breathed in the homely scent of her sheets and pillow and instantly relaxed. One of the simple pleasures was sleeping in your own bed she noted and quickly fell into a dreamy sleep leaving reality and her problems behind.

"Sherlock, you can't just do this! This is stupid and not to mention a violation of Molly's privacy!" John said leaning heavily on the kitchen counter staring at Sherlock as he swept around the room, getting ready to go out.

"I just need to perform a quick test, John. It really only benefits Molly." Sherlock said as he continued to look for his tools.

"Seeing if you can break into her apartment to 'test if a criminal mastermind can get in' is not things friends do for each other!" John shouted angrily. Sherlock was like an out of control toddler sometimes. Too stubborn to be pulled back once he got his eyes set on something.

"Then clearly they are not friends," Sherlock stated turning to face John briefly before continuing with his search. "Obviously, if hypothetically they were friends then they would care about each other's housing security."

John was just about done with Sherlock, ready to storm off at any second before he realised something. "You've already got Molly's security raised to one of the highest possible levels." He said trying to reason with the mad detective.

As Sherlock finally set eyes on his tools he gave a winning smirk before rummaging through and finding the right ones needed for today's experiment. Sherlock couldn't care less at what John had said and continued looking, throwing various metal objects over his head and into the room behind him making sharp clatters that startled John.

"What was Molly's apartment number again?" Sherlock asked ignoring him.

"Oh no! I am not telling you that! No." John refused as he watched his friend grab a few small tools and put on his traditional coat and scarf.

"Not to worry I can always access her file." Sherlock teased as he slipped out the door.

"Sherlock!" John called after him down the stairs but it was no use.

Tonight Sherlock was breaking into Molly Hooper's home.

* * *

Sherlock easily broke into Molly's apartment building without resistance. He had little faith that her own apartment would be any different. He knelt down at the door and brought out his tools for his work, beginning to pick at the lock. Only one, he noted. He would have to buy her at least four more after tonight.

Inside Molly had been woken up by the rustle and scratch of metal on metal at her door. She felt paralytic in fear and panic but something in her willed her hand to grab her phone. She dialled John's number in a flash of her fingers.

"Hi, Molly. What's up?" He asked, temporarily forgetting Sherlock's plans.

"John's there's someone here!" She whispered desperately down the phone that was clutched tightly in her shaking hands.

"Oh god-" John gasped as her realised it must be Sherlock. "Molly just stay calm-" John started but was interrupted by Molly's panic.

"I've got to get the pan." She realised, running towards the kitchen, dropping her phone in the process.

"Molly wait!" John called after her. "No one ever bloody listens." John murmured to himself.

Molly got to the kitchen keeping the lights off and grabbed her trusty pan, true it was cliché to fight off an intruder with a pan but there must be a reason it was a cliché! She thought reasoning with herself. She gripped the rusty pan handle tightly, keeping it at chest height. Ready and armed they always say.

There was a click of the door as it opened and the intruder let himself in. She held back a squeak of fear as she waited for the perfect moment to whack the pan over his head. Molly swayed on one foot to the other keeping herself ready as the dark figure got closer.

"Molly?" a familiar voice called out but it was too late. He had turned to face her, coming into direct contact with her pan that had been whizzing towards his head.

"Oh god." Molly gasped in horror as she rushed to click the light on. "Shit."

* * *

Sherlock came through quickly, being greeted by Molly flustering over him, hands in a panic as they fluttered around trying to understand what to do.

"Sherlock? Sherlock can you talk? I am so sorry! I'll go check the ice!" She babbled on continuously not letting Sherlock get a peep in before she scampered towards her freezer to get the ice. Sherlock who was currently lying face up on the floor gave a groan and tried to incline his head to see where Molly had gone.

"No, Sherlock just stay down for the moment, don't move." She persuaded, placing a hand behind his head and carefully lowering it back down.

Molly hovered over him trying to get into the right position that didn't awkwardly twist her wrist. After trying three different positions next to him Sherlock got tired of watching her struggle and placed her on top of him inevitably forcing her to straddled his waist.

Molly gave a small blush, which Sherlock purposely ignored, before she lightly pressed a bag of peas to his head. "I didn't have any ice packs only peas – sorry." She whispered as she gently smoothed back his curly black hair.

"At least I know you can properly defend yourself if a criminal intruded." Sherlock tried to joke.

"I really am sorry, Sherlock. You shouldn't have snuck in!" She paused listening back to her own words. "Why did you sneak in?" She wondered aloud.

"Experiment." He merely replied, not wanting to go into details at the moment.

Molly gave a small nod and changed the side of the bag of peas, inducing a hiss of pain from Sherlock. "Sorry. Sorry." She repeated.

There was a comfortable silence as Sherlock let Molly take care of him. Every now and then he would glance back to look up at her. Her face was one of concentration, desperately trying not to cause more pain which she was succeeding at gratefully. He noticed that when she was in hard concentration such as now her eyebrows would wound together and create a small crinkle above her nose and the tip of her tongue would poke through her pink lips. He held back a chuckle at the pathologist's expression, hiding a small smirk under his collar.

"Well isn't this a sight to see." John commented from the doorway.

"It's my fault John. I hit him with a frying pan." She mumbled looking down ashamedly.

"Nonsense Molly, the fault was entirely mine." Sherlock tilted her chin up to look at him. "Do not blame yourself for what would be necessary actions." He told her with a sincere voice.

John awkwardly shifted from foot to foot as he watched them together. He finally broke their gaze with a cough as he made himself re-known to them. "Well, all I can say is that someone needed to hit him soon enough." He said as he went towards them both, holding his hand out for Molly to help her up. "Hopefully you've knocked some ego out of him."

Molly gave a small smile at John's comment, letting her hands dust her knees off. John then moved to help Sherlock up. "You're an idiot, you know that right?" he whispered under his breath so Molly wouldn't hear. Sherlock grumbled slightly in response but made no other comment.

"I think we're finished here now. Goodbye Molly." Sherlock said quickly and left with a dramatic swoop of his coat.

"Bye Molly." John waved as he followed the detective.

"John?" Molly said stopping John in his tracks. "Make sure he's okay, please. For me?"

John paused, taken back by Molly's open care for Sherlock but he hid it well, nodding slightly before closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and leaving Kudos, really appreciate it. Hope you're enjoying the story :)


	8. Chapter 8

It had been a week since Sherlock had broken into Molly's. He rarely visited after then, only once to her home to place 3 more locks on her door. Sherlock was no handy man, made clear by his frustration at the 'contraptions' as he put it and made John do it instead.

Moriarty in that time had made only one attempt to contact him. It was another note simply stating that Sherlock would be wise to be careful to watch his loved ones closely. He had immediately informed Mycroft of the note and suggested it would be wise to have body guards set up for them all, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, John and Molly. Especially Molly they agreed.

Molly had different ideas about the body guards. She stated to Sherlock that she could defend herself finely and that they were invading her privacy. She was determined not to be tagged at the damsel in distress. Mycroft had swayed slightly in Miss Hooper's defence and suggested the option of lowering the security but Sherlock was persistent on keeping the body guard's near.

Mary had also been over once in that week, to plan the wedding. She and John had originally planned to plan at Mary's but Sherlock had demanded John to stay at 221B incase of an emergency. John rejected stating he was helping Mary with the wedding but Sherlock stumped him by calling that nonsense and to have Mary here instead.

Sherlock had only met Mary a handful of times and none of those times were very long either she had remained quiet in each brief meeting which didn't allow Sherlock to get a full understanding of her. Mary was a small dainty woman with blond hair and large blue eyes. While not particularly beautiful in the traditional sense, the future Mrs Watson possessed a sweet and amiable nature that was to be seen on her countenance.

Sherlock was sitting at the kitchen table staring intently into his microscope working on a case that Lestrade had demanded him to do even though it was a six at the most when Mary buzzed at the door. John rushed past Sherlock quickly giving him some last minute advice.

"Be nice, Sherlock. Please?" He requested as he made a dash for the door.

Sherlock merely ignored him and carried on studying the page dust that was placed under his microscope.

John didn't think Sherlock and Mary would exactly hit it off and they didn't in so many words. In fact Mary hardly spoke, which Sherlock liked about her, commenting briefly how she asked few questions but they were always the right ones. He had allowed her to stay in the company of John after her visit.

Molly and Mary on the other hand had hit it off instantly, she seemed more relaxed around Molly. They had first met a month before the engagement when John brought her to morgue on an immediate and urgent case. They became very good friends quickly after the first meet and had planned a girl's night out for tonight. They were now getting ready at Mary's due to the advantage of having no body guards around.

Mary was currently on the phone to John. Molly could scarcely hear the conversation just it sounded very argumentative.

"I know you're sorry John but I can't help but think that I don't mean much to you, this is the third time in two weeks! – I need you too, you know? – Are you saying that us, our relationship is not important?! – Don't bother!" Mary shouted down the phone ending with a violent slam to hang up the phone.

"You'll break my phone if you're not careful." Molly said sliding from the next room into Mary's lounge, twiddling her thumbs in the process at her friend's distress.

"Sorry but he just makes me so angry sometimes." Mary said sitting on the armchair.

"What's he done?" Molly asked hesitantly.

"Cancelled our lunch tomorrow, again. Saying that Sherlock needs him at the moment."

Molly pressed her lips together into a thin line. She understood Mary's pain but also knew that if Sherlock needed him then it was best in everyone's interests if John stay there. Even if Mary knew nothing about it. "John always means well. Try not to be too hard on him."

"Well he's sleeping in the dog house tonight. Maybe I'll forgive him when I get my hands on a glass of red wine." She said as she slipped on her high heels. "Almost ready to go?" She asked looking up at Molly.

Molly nodded in response. "Yeah just need to get my bag." She grabbed her bag from Mary's bedroom and slipped her hand in mentally checking everything she needed was there.

Phone, purse, keys, she checked off as her hand dance over each one. Her hand soon felt a small piece of card, bringing it out of the bag she inspected it closely. "Be careful." It read. She gave a small but pleasant sigh assuming it must have been from Sherlock. She giggled like a school girl and replaced the note in her bag before leaving the bedroom with a grin.

"What's with the face?" Mary questioned as she unlatched the door.

"Nothing." Molly giggled as she left the apartment.

The club was somewhat popular, nothing too bold or too young. They had their sights set on a classy place that was an over 21 club.

"Mary, don't you think place might just be a tad bit too-" She paused trying to find the right word "sophisticated for us?"

"Nonsense." Mary hushed her friend as they walked through the busy lounge towards the bar.

"What'll it be ladies?"

"Glass of red, please." Mary turned to Molly who was still sussing the place out. "Will you quit being to tetchy and give me your drink order?"

"Sorry. I've just never been here before." Molly sighed and gave up her search for something, anything suspicious. "I'll have a Chardonnay, please."

Mary got the drinks but they decided to stay near the bar instead of battling their way through the crowd that was growing by the minute. "Honestly, Molly, I don't know how cope with Sherlock sometimes."

"He's not too bad." She stated simply shrugging off the question.

"I suppose. He is an awfully clever man I must admit and I guess he does good work." Mary said as she swirled her drink taking another sip of the blood red liquid. "He just sometimes ticks me off. Especially when he takes John away." She concluded.

"He tries his best to do what is right." She meekly defended.

"I could help but over hear you've got guy problems, love." A blonde and brutal looking man interrupted.

Molly instantly was on full alert of this man, her guards going up almost immediately.

"Well, honestly. I-I think that's between my friend and I." She smiled sweetly at him before turning her attention back to Molly. But this man was having none of it. Not giving up too easily.

"I could always be a new friend, love." He continued glancing quickly at Molly, giving her goose bumps and a cold shiver down her spine and not in a good way. He gave her a smirk before returning to Mary.

"I'm honestly alright, but I appreciate your concern." Mary finished finally.

He took his sign to leave and did so. Molly was still a bit shocked. Most men would have bowed out from the first blow but this man carried on. But he stopped. That was the thing that she was concerned about. Most men either left straight away or were persistent enough that you would have to shout at them. But this man was neither.

"Mary, I think we should continue our night at my house." Molly stated getting up from the bar stool.

"But the night is young, Molly dear, surely we're not going to leave right now." Mary glanced at her watch "We've barely been for not much longer than an hour." She reasoned.

"I know. I just have- I have this feeling." Molly said, twisting her fingers into knots and keeping her wits about herself.

"Molly, nothing is going to happen. Don't let one man ruin our night, please one more hour at least!" Mary persuaded her friend.

"One more hour then." She said as she sunk back down helplessly on the stool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for the kudos! I really appreciate it! :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Mary head back to Molly but aren't allowed to leave without difficulties set up by Sherlock.

Molly and Mary stayed at the unnerving club exactly as Mary had promised, one hour more. Molly was relieved as she felt the almost inviting cool British night air hit her skin making her relax instantaneously.

"Right let's go back to your's. You owe me." Mary said as she checked the contents of her bag.

"Sure, popcorn and a movie?"

"Sounds like an excellent plan!" She agreed enthusiastically.

* * * 

Both women walked down the street their arms linked as they made their way to flog down a taxi. Once they finally arrived at Molly's Mary got the popcorn ready as Molly scanned through her DVD collection, calling the names out to Mary as suggestions.

"Perks of being a wallflower?"

"Bit young for us, dearie." She politely declined.

"Salmon Fishing in Yemen?"

"Slightly too political."

"The Vow?"

Mary crinkled her nose in response "Don't you think it's a…" Mary cocked her head to once side trying to find the right words. After a moment's pause she had one "A bit gushy?"

"Singin' In The Rain?" Molly asked, just wanting to watch a movie, any movie for that matter.

"A musical?"

"Moulin Rouge?"

"Now that's musical that doesn't even have it's own songs." She chided.

"Yeah I know." Molly sighed, slightly giving up hope. Molly's eyes scanned her DVD library once more, landing suddenly on something she thought would be perfect. "The Holiday?" She hesitantly questioned, yes she thought it was perfect but Mary had also declined all the other perfect choices too.

"Jack Black, here I come!" Mary shouted from the Molly's kitchen.

Molly flipped the DVD case open and crawled over to the DVD player before correcting her friend. "Jude Law is much better." She said as she rose up and took a seat, as Mary brought over the butter oozing popcorn.

The movie went on through the night with the women laughing and crying at the TV as it slowly came to an end. By the time the movie had finished it was almost coming up to 2am and both of them had work in the morning. Mary helped with clearing up even though it was minimal, only the a few popcorn pieces that had escaped onto the floor and the DVD cases now scattered across the floor in Molly attempt to find a movie.

Mary slipped her shoes back on slightly wincing at the pain of high heels and grabbed her bag from where she had placed it when she came in.

"Mary are you sure you won't get a cab to your's?" Molly fretted as Mary was about to leave.

"I'm positive, darling. It's only fifteen minutes away and besides I could do with some exercise."

"You do not need the exercise, you're thin as a rake." Molly muttered as she repositioned some cushions back in their respectful places. "Look at least take the body guards."

Mary was taken back and blinked at Molly. "You what?" She said gobsmacked at what had just come out of Molly's mouth, emitted a slight giggle at the thought of walking down a street with a bodyguard.

"The bodyguards. Sherlock made them watch over me and some other people. They're only there to well…guard, I guess." She explained.

Mary blinked again at Molly's suggestion but Molly was deadly serious so she contemplated the idea. She would have normally turned the idea down but she knew Molly well enough to know that she would insist.

"Sure." Mary shrugged. "Why not?"

"Good." Molly stated as she popped her head out the door to find one. "They can be a bit tricky to find." She said slightly embarrassed as she and Mary went on the hunt.

"Can't you just call for one?" Mary wonder aloud.

"I suppose. I've never really tried." Molly shrugged already clearing her throat to try and call for one. "I need a guard." She said loud enough for someone nearby to hear. They waited a few seconds but gave up. As they turned back into the apartment to call Sherlock they were greeted by a tall and muscular looking man with dark brown cropped hair and oddly enough sunglasses.

"You requested me ma'am?" The bodyguard said in a stern and authoritive tone that made Molly intimidated but also slightly weak at the knees

"Oh…yes. Hello. Err how did you get into my apartment?" She asked, slightly scared at the thought of him being in there all night. Oh god had he heard their argument of Jack Black and Jude Law?!

"That is classified ma'm."

"Oh…o-okay. Erm well I-I need you and the other one to take Mary home."

"If that's too much trouble." Mary politely added giving a brief sweet smile.

"I am afraid I cannot perform such a task ma'am."

"What? Why not?" Molly asked slightly outraged at what she had just heard, he couldn't possibly let a woman go out alone could he?

"Mr. Holmes made it very clear that we are not to leave your side at any costs."

"Which Holmes?!"

"That is classified ma'am."

"Ugh." Molly grunted in frustration, she was getting nowhere with him and his stupidly polite and short answers. "Call Sherlock for me. Now." She commanded.

"Yes ma'am." He replied as he went out pull out a small black sleek mobile phone, speed dialling Sherlock's number before handing the phone to Molly who was now tapping her foot.

"What's happened? Is Molly alright?" Sherlock answered without hesitation and a hint of panic in his voice that was hidden as much as possible.

"Molly, is annoyed, Sherlock." She told him.

"Oh, you're fine then." He said as he settling back more relaxed.

"Sherlock, I need your bodyguard to take Mary home."

"They can't do that." He refused.

"I know they can't do that." Molly said through gritted teeth, her patience was wearing thin. "I already asked and they said Mr Holmes told them not to. Sherlock just let them take her home."

"And why would I do that? Yes, Mary is alright at best but she doesn't hold the same importance to me as you do."

Images of the card that was left in her bag came to mind, the texture, the words, the slightly italicized scripture. Her brain momentarily froze at his words, her own becoming less and less turning slowly into a mumbling and stuttering mess.

"W-wha. Sher-sherlock, explain please."

"She is merely John's fiancé, she's a nurse, yes, but her field is already covered by you and John."

"I'm not a nurse though."

"No you're title is much higher and with the medical training you've had you would make an excellent nurse since you already know the fine points and particulars of the human body. Plus you have that - that caring instinct."

"Sherlock, just let them take her home." She pleaded growing quickly tired.

"And why should I do that?" He retaliated stubbornly.

"Because Mary is John's future wife and he'd be upset if he knew that you let her walk on her own at this time of night." She smirked.

There was a long pause before Sherlock replied. More often than not to be deliberating ever possible scenario that could happen.

"Fine." He sulked, she could almost hear his lips pout. "Pass me on to the bodyguard."

Molly did as he asked and handed the tall man the small phone, it looked slightly comical at the size difference as if he were a giant. The body guard listened intently to Sherlock and gave a quick and stern "Sir." at the end before pocketing the phone.

"What did he say?" She asked curiously as the body guard began to escort Mary to the door where another similar tall and muscular man stood waiting.

"That we are to report to you instantly once delivering Mary safely to her abode." He clarified as he left.

Molly gave a roll of her eyes at Sherlock and his ridiculous rules. "Bye Mary." She called after her quickly before she was out of hearing range.

Molly had spent only minutes in her bathroom before she heard footsteps outside her door followed by the sound of her various locks being fiddled with. There was no way the bodyguards could be back at this time. Goddammit Sherlock she thought as she strode to the door to tell him off. She ripped the door open and was confronted with a familiar face. But it was Sherlock's.

"Hello, Molly."


	10. Chapter 10

A sickeningly familiar face greeted Molly at the door. Fear and panic struck her as she gasped at his return. He cocked his head to the side with a loud and revolting click of the neck as if snapping the vertebras in half. "Surprise, surprise. Moll-eh." He taunted, dragging out her name like a death sentence.

She stumbled backwards, throwing the door to close with a new found force but he caught it with his hand, pushing it slowly back open taking a step into her home.

"Now that wasn't very nice Molly. Some may even say it was rude!" He roared the last word, showing his unpredictable nature and in turn making her shrivel and cringe away from him.

"You know I must thank you for playing a part in my little game, you did awfully well not letting on that you knew I was alive and even when Sherlock grasped the concept you kept up the pretence. Bra-vo. But alas, sweet Molly, your part in this has not concluded. I just need one more thing from you, and no." He held his hand up to her to stop her from speaking. "You don't get a say in any of this. Apologies, dear, for you must understand that you are merely a pawn in this game of chess that Sherlock and I play. And we all know what pawns are for - don't we?" Moriarty paused, leaning in far too closely to Molly, expectantly waiting for an answer but she remained mute. "No? Don't know? Well let me teach you little mousy Molly. Pawns. Are. For. Sacrifices. They must die to win the game." With that she knew her fate was sealed.

Suddenly she heard someone coming up the stairs. Moriarty locked the door quickly and took a gun out of his left breast pocket, holding it expertly aimed at the door. They both remained still, Molly knew that she would endure a torturous death if she spoke out now.

Two sharp knocks came from the other side of her door. "Miss Hooper, we are to report your safety to Mr Holmes." One of the guard's stated remaining outside.

Moriarty shot her an intimidating stare that silently told her to choose a correct answer.

"Tell Mr Holmes that I am perfect." She said trying to cover up her shaky voice.

After a moment's pause they heard the guard turn and retreat downstairs.

"Well well, Mr Holmes, sounds awfully kinky doesn't it?"

"You leave Sherlock out of this." She warned.

"Why? He's the only reason you're still alive my sweet, but not for long." He sang as he gripped her swan like neck tightly and held her at his mercy, a knife glinting in the light menacingly as it came into her view.

* * *

Sherlock was waiting rather impatiently back at 221b in his favourite chair, hands pressed together and situated against his lips and under his nose as he used the fire that crackled and licked the wood to lull him into a trance state. His phone was placed carefully on the coffee table infront of him, within arm's reach.

He had calculated that Mary's was not far away from Molly's as she had decided to walk there and the maximum walking distance for a woman in high heels of Mary's age, height, and weight was about thirty minutes.

He then calculated the time that is would take Mary to leave Molly's additional minutes for goodbyes and such and then once more for the guards to walk to her apartment and back additional minutes added for delays.

Within this time he expected a call that informed him that Molly was still safe.

The minutes went by agonisingly slow, he found it almost unbearable to wait this long with any sign that she was alright. Nothing. Just silence that deafened around him, taunting him regarding his wait ahead of him. He shifted his body weight around hoping to relief some boredom, drummed his fingers, then his toes, made a cup of tea and finally resorted to filing through his mind palace.

Little over half an hour had passed and if Mary's house was in the thirty minute range then he may have to wait another thirty minutes before the guards were back with Moll. He suddenly realised that if this were to be true Molly would have been left only for an hour without supervision, mentally kicking himself for giving Molly permission to do this.

But Molly Hooper was his weakness, he had realised this almost too late. His brain hit him in waves of memories of his last living conversation with Molly before he became a dead man walking.

In that moment, when she saw everything he had hidden so well, she saw him as a different man. She saw through his façade and stared deep within him at his fears and vulnerabilities, as if he were a child again. At the moment he was not the Sherlock Holmes everyone else knew, not to her and in that moment he had realised that she had won. That she will always win.

From then on he had planned to keep her by his side whatever the risks.

The phone burst into life, withdrawing him from his thoughts.

"Yes?" He answered the phone expectantly.

"She said she is fine Mr. Holmes."

"Details. I need exact words." He scorned.

"She said exactly. 'Tell Mr. Holmes that I am perfect."

Sherlock thought for a moment as the words sunk in, horror washed over him. His hands curling into balls, his blood boiling as he realised what she meant by her words. He once again had failed to give her credit, realising just how clever Molly Hooper really was and once again he might be too late to tell her of her magnificence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank to everyone who left Kudos! :D


	11. Chapter 11

Sherlock thought for a moment as the words sunk in, horror washed over him. His hands curling into balls, his blood boiling as he realised what she meant by her words. He once again had failed to give her credit, realising just how clever Molly Hooper really was and once again he might be too late to tell her of her magnificence.

Sherlock shouted for John to come down stairs with urgency that made John remember his army days. Never had he heard Sherlock sound as imperative. Sherlock was dialling Lestrade in an instant as John hurriedly got ready, he grabbed his gun and soon they were on their way to Molly's apartment. The guards were shocked to see them arrive in a frightening frenzy. Moving past them with a force that they knew not to mess with.

"Call Mycroft." Sherlock bellowed as he climbed up the stairs. He twisted the door handle but it was locked. "Molly!" Sherlock called out in a vicious tone as he struggled with the door. He made no hesitation before he started to kick the door down, repeatedly slamming his foot against the hard wood until it gave in making a creek, snap and crash as it did and hit the floor, splintered from the blow.

"Molly!" He called out again, desperation lining his voice as he barged into the room scanning it quickly, the door was locked and there was no signs of struggle in the room, he deducted. His heart momentarily lifted as he hoped his deduction were wrong.

John and Lestrade followed Sherlock, their guns aimed high and at the ready for any danger.

Sherlock moved to check every room. The kitchen and bathroom were intact from what he could remember from his last visit. He turned quickly, darting to check her bedroom. Both other men scanned the room quickly as Sherlock did and quickly moved on.

"Sherlock?" John called, as he headed to stay with Sherlock and exited the living room into Molly's bedroom.

Sherlock faltered for a moment stumbling backwards as he laid his eyes on the disturbing sight infront of him. His blood ran cold, all colour drained from his face as he took everything in.

"No." John whispered, lowering his gun slowly.

The sight they were greeted with was nothing less than a nightmare created from hell itself. Blood inked I.O.U.s were scrawled and scratched into Molly's walls, tainting them with their presence. It was splattered and thrown across the walls, now clotting and congealing together.

This was a slaughter.

Lestrade walked in and immediately stepped back covering his face from the revolting smell. "Get forensics in!" He barked.

Sherlock made no move to avert his eyes or nose or to even move. He stood paralysed with horror. When the forensics team had to squeeze past the man John made it his job to get Sherlock out of the room.

Forensics made as quick of a job as they could do, firstly and most importantly checking the blood.

It was a match.

Molly Hooper's blood had covered the walls.

He was too late.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting in ages. I have no excuse that it worthy really. College had been tough recently and the whole university process kind of broke me a bit. Anyway I'm sorry and I hope you enjoy.

Once guard had left Molly's door, after making the confirmatory phone call to Sherlock, Moriarty got down to business. He clicked a button on his smart phone and soon Molly was surrounded by brutal men.

"Now, Mols. Uncle Jim just needs something from you and you need to behave so I can get it." Moriarty taunted and as if on cue the men grabbed each limb and pinned her hard to the ground.

Molly opened her mouth to scream but Moriarty swooped in next to her covering her mouth with his hand, almost suffocating her. Molly tried to twist out of their hold but it was no use. Another man leaned into sight, She could just about see him slapping on some latex gloves and pulling syringe with several containers out of a box.

She shook her head pleading with Moriarty to stop but he ignored her as he watched the needle pierce through her skin and slowly suck up her blood. Molly soon began to feel dizzy and faint, her head flopped back on the ground as she succumbed to the black darkness of sleep.

* * *

Molly woke up in a room that was deserted, tabled and chairs were scattered and broken across the room, some were even piled up as if to make a barricade. Moss climbed the walls that were infected with damp and very little light was coming through tiny slits from barred up windows.

She was bound to a chair by rope that was far too tight for comfort. She was also cold and light-headed from the blood loss. She glanced around the room once more, appearing to be void of human life except herself.

"Ahh I see our little sleepy head has woken up then. How was the nap?" Moriarty teased as he made his way to her from out of the shadows. She noticed he was idly swirling a glass as he did so. "Must have been good, you've been asleep for half an hour, but I thought you deserved the rest so I just gave you a little something to keep you asleep. No need to thank me."

He pressed the glass of water to her lips tilting in towards her forcing her to drink. At first she wanted to decline but her throat ached for something to drink. She gulped some down greedily letting it spill down the corners of her mouth. She made a groaning sound and shook her head signalling for Moriarty to stop after she had drunk half of it. He pulled the glass away and turned, throwing it down the far end of the room making a shattering sound as it collided with the wall.

"H-how long?" Molly managed to drawl out.

"Out I'd say about 15 hours. Give or take." He answered slowly bending down to kneel beside her chair.

"Wha-whatever you have planned, Moriarty, Sherlock. Will. Win." Molly hissed as he tightened the ropes of her wrist so they burned and rubbed into her skin.

Moriarty stood up and merely chuckled while shaking his head at Molly. "Well we both know that old saying. You win some you lose some." He shrugged his shoulder.

"Sherlock won't lose - he never does."

"So much faith little one. Do you believe the man is an angel?" He questioned as he circled her chair.

"Well I definitely know you're not." She spat.

"Darling," He paused pulling a face as if he was momentarily embarrassed for Molly at what she had said. "I stuck a bullet through my head and lived, who's to say I'm not."

"We all know you're too cowardly to stick a real bullet in your head. At least when S-sherlock jumped off the building he did it for the people he loved."

"To which I must remind you that none of them were you." He mentioned vindictively, knowing exactly how much that would hurt Molly.

Molly mentally skidded in her tracks. She had no comeback so she remained silent.

"Do my ears deceive me, have I stopped little mouse from squeaking?" He sized her up for a moment, letting his eyes rummage through her trailing slightly on her breasts. Molly squirmed in response trying to turn away from his demonic eyes.

"No!" He said in mock disbelieve. "Noooo! Oh this is hi-la-ri-ous!" He sang before slamming his hands either side of her, breaking all personal boundaries. "You're still in love with the boy aren't you?"

Molly said nothing in response not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"What is it, Mols? Still think you have a chance? Which is it? Do you believe you're the only girl for him?" He whispered in her ear as he twirled a strand of hair "Or that he's just not doing anything about it because he's doesn't seem interested in anyone?" Moriarty stepped back, twisting on his feet as he rubbed his hand over his face and laughed. "I mean either way it's just amazing. I suppose Sherlock-lover-boy-Holmes never did tell you."

"Tell me w-what?"

"You really don't know do you? Well this is marvellous! Let me put it bluntly, dear. Sherlock Holmes…doesn't love you. Never has, never will. He may come across as a-sexual and you may think that you're the only girl for him but I can gladly tell you now that neither are true." He paused waiting to see Molly's expression which was off confusion.

"I-I don't understand." She whispered.

"He had sex Molly! He had sex with Irene Adler!" He roared

Molly was still confused, the words had still not properly sunk in yet.

"A little birdy told me that you described her as the woman who Sherlock knew from 'not her face'." Moriarty reminded her with a sickeningly sweet smile and an absent-minded tone.

Molly's felt a pang of pain deep within her chest. Like Moriarty had plunged his cold hand into her chest and squeezed her heart. Her face dropped as she stared off into the distance trying to make desperate sense of the new information. She felt betrayed, upset, devastated,embarrassed, her world had crumbled. She wanted nothing more than to go home and curl into a ball and stay that way forever. She wanted the world to enclose on her, engulf her into its warmth so she could sleep forever.

Her eyes bubbled over with tears. She didn't sob, or cry out or scream, she let her tears run their path, cascading down her face. She didn't think she could stop them anyway.

She felt inadequate. She felt empty.

Moriarty knelt beside her catching a tear and wiping it away with his thumb. It was the first time he had ever shown any form of compassion since he revealed himself although she knew he was just gloating.

"All's fair in love and war, my dear. You ought not to have built him up so high." He whispered as he stood to leave.

Molly let out a shaky sigh as if to try to expel all the pain from herself but it was no use. The pain lingered there and made all happiness vanish from existence. She could only feel pain or feel numb and neither was better than the other.

* * *

Sherlock looked over the blood results for what might have been the hundredth time. John watched closely, trying to analyse every brow twitch and frown, from the side lines of the kitchen. John knew that Sherlock, however much he put on brave face was grieving over the pathologist. The kettle whistled, disturbing John as it came to the boil and he poured the tea giving it a moment to brew.

"Sherlock." John started, unsure on what exactly to say to his friend. Everyone had been effected from Molly's death but there was something much different about this time with Molly and the time with Irene Adler. Sherlock seemed to truly, honestly care for Molly and he had done everything in his power to keep her safe.

But now it seemed it had all been for naught.

"Sherlock, there is no use in obsessing over the lab results. It-it was a match, Sherlock. All we can do is hope to find the bloody bastard."

"There is always information. You have seen but not observed." Sherlock muttered coldly.

"Sherlock, they're lab results. Confirming…" He broke off having trouble to say it properly. "Confirming it."

Sherlock ignored John

"1.68 litres of blood. 1.68. 1.68. 1.68. 1.68. 1.68." He muttered, repeating it to himself like a mantra. "Why is that significant? Why exactly 1.68?!"

"Exactly? No one can spill blood exactly" John paused, taking the lab results into proper consideration. "Unless it's just a coincidence."

"Moriarty doesn't know the meaning of the word." Sherlock spat as if the name itself left a bad taste in his mouth. "Wait a minute." He continued, jolting up straight as if he had been hit with a bolt of lightning. "1.68? Exactly 1.68 litres?"

"Yes why?"

"Blood! That, 1.68 litres of blood, is the exact average amount an adult human can lose before coming seriously ill."

John stood both awe-struck and shocked at the new realisation. His mouth hung open for a moments or so, Sherlock could almost see the cogs clicking together in his brain. "No." He gasped. "The results-"

"The results are true. Molly Hooper's Blood. Yes. Exactly 1.68litres. Yes. Dead? Close but never on my watch." Sherlock said with enthusiasm as he collected his coat and ran down and out of 221b with John shadowing behind. Ultimately forgetting the still brewing tea.


	13. Chapter 13

Sherlock heart thumped loudly in his ears, he could hear the blood rushing and pumping though his veins as they arrived at Scotland Yard. His Molly was still alive and that's all that counted at the moment.

They bombarded into Lestrade quadrant and dashed into his office without an apology to spare for those who got in the way.

"Sherlock." Lestrade warned, standing in surprise at their entrance. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Molly's not dead. She's alive but I don't know for how much longer. We need to find her now."

"Explain." Lestrade uttered, not hesitating for anything else. He had never seen Sherlock as determined or for that matter frightened as he was now.

"The blood."

"It was Molly's. Yes." Greg nodded but heard Sherlock out.

"1.68 Exactly."

"And?"

"It's the exact amount to almost kill someone. Almost. If Moriarty has left her to stay in that state then she is in a critical condition but she is alive, I know that much."

Greg paused for a moment letting the information settle in, he was dumbfounded that Sherlock could give such a sweeping statement without any hard proof.

"How do you know?" He asked, slightly doubting of the consulting detective.

"If she was dead he would have wanted me to see her, he would have wanted the image to scold my mind and haunt me forever."

"How can we help?"

The search for Molly had begun in an instant and had every intention of carrying on endlessly without pause until Molly Hooper was found. Scotland Yard was in a frenzy trying to get any information that they might had overlooked before. Sherlock's brain worked over time to pull together any clues he could grasp. Sadly he was doing just that, grasping at things that might not even be helpful. Moriarty had kept this one close, giving him warnings but never clues. It was getting to be tedious.

Many a time within the 7 hours they had been searching Sherlock had banged his fist against the tables and walls, shouted, stomped, and threatened. To say the least he was frustrated. John watched him when he could, checking up to see if he was still sane. John was worried for both Molly and Sherlock at this time and new he could do very little to help either.

He began to look over some more test sample that Sherlock had run, but had only got so far before his phone ringing interrupted him. He saw Sherlock shoot him a more than infuriated look as if he had committed sin in a church.

"Hello?...Well Who's it addressed to?" Sherlock kept looking over the papers that were in his hand but listened intently to the one-sided conversation. "The same, you say? Are you certain?...And there was nothing suspicious about him?...Alright we'll be on our way. Thank you." John ended the call and turned to Sherlock

"What's happened?"

"That was Mrs Hudson, she's just got another note with your name on it, just that nothing else. She says it's exactly like the one from before." John explained.

"Let's go."


	14. Chapter 14

They returned to Baker Street within the half hour of leaving Scotland Yard. Mrs Hudson was looking rather worrisome, waiting at the door with a similar looking parcel held gingerly in her hands. Sherlock swiped the parcel into his own, analysing the outside of it closely before he ripped the paper away revealing underneath, a book.

John peered over to help examine the contents as Sherlock stared bewildered at what was in front of him.

"'The Shining'. What on earth?" John commented.

"Quick, what is significant in this story?"

"You don't know 'The Shining'?" John asked in shock. Of course he shouldn't be surprised, a man that had no room for the solar system obviously had no time for one of the best written horror novels either.

"John! Quickly!"

"Err. Ghosts, murder, the man goes crazy, telepathy."

"Details John." Sherlock sighed, aggravated that he needed to ask.

"Well a family go to stay as this old abandoned and isolated resort for about 2 weeks and the father who is an alcoholic and has this raging temper, becomes crazed or possessed, it's been a while since I read it actually. Good film too."

"Say that again."

"It's been a while-"

"Before that! The first thing."

"They go to stay at this old abandoned and isolated resort."

Sherlock briefly smirked before he began thumbing through the book. As he turned each page he and John began to note three things: firstly the book had been translated into Gaelic, Scottish. Secondly the book's spine, the crevice between pages had been lined with dirt. Thirdly the book had been previously been submerged in water. Sherlock sniffed the book like a dog before confirming his thoughts.

"It's fresh water."

Another cab ride led them to St. Barts to test the dirt. It was morbid being at the morgue. Neither of them had noticed the pleasant aura that had surrounded Molly. It was now like all life had been sucked from there.

The tests on the dirt had taken almost an hour extra without Molly's help and now pointed to Scotland, focusing exactly to soil that been partially saturated with lake water. The tests also revealed that there was no natural occurring salt that might appear in soils nearer to the sea.

"Sherlock, hold up. Don't you think this is all very suspicious? I mean three clues, which I'm sure were put there deliberately. I don't know. It's like he wants you to go to this place, like you're running into a trap."

Sherlock considered this momentarily, John had enlightened him as he had never thought of this before though it was an almost obvious scenario. "Regardless. My mission is to bring Molly back home safely."

"What about the consequences?"

"Irrelevant."

John was not surprised at the determination that Sherlock was expressing. Only once had he seen him in a similar state. He feared for Moriarty. The man that had caused Mrs Hudson harm had been dropped out the window several times, Moriarty had kidnapped Molly and unfortunately assumingly hurt her. Moriarty's chances of coming out of this alive were quickly dwindling down to zero.

Sherlock called Lestrade and informed them of his findings. He also informed his homeless network hoping that one of them would quickly give him information on possible hotel and for Mycroft to prepare the fastest helicopter the government had on demand to be on standby for a departure to Scotland. Sherlock now had to completely rely on the intelligence of others, he had little range of information on abandoned hotels. It was frustrating to be dependent on someone else to give you correct information but for now he and John Watson played the waiting game.

It was now becoming late and neither Sherlock nor John had received word of any new information. Sherlock was at the end of his tether. John had decided to call Mary to inform her that they would be leaving for Scotland as soon as they could the right information but it had gone straight to voice mail.

"She's not answering, do you think I should be worried?" John said with concern lining his voice as he walked back into the room.

"You had a fight with her."

"Yes but-"

"John it is not uncommon for a woman to hold bewilderingly long grudges for small things." Sherlock stated.

John gave him a slightly shocked look, wondering how the hell Sherlock knew anything about women.

"John, this is getting to be absurd!" Sherlock shouted his voice growing with frustration jumping up from his chair beginning to pace.

"Sherlock just stay calm, everyone is doing their best to help." John said in a calm tone, placing the Mary situation at the back of his mind.

"Well it's not enough." He argued.

"Sherlock. We will find Molly."

Sherlock stop suddenly in his tracks. Hands fallen to his sides, no longer steepled under his nose. Eyes that bored into your soul and made your blood run as cold as ice.

"Yes, we hopefully will but I am no longer assured that she will be alive when we do so."

John remained quiet from that point onwards. The reality of that situation was becoming apparent and he now realised that the more time that passed was less time to find Molly alive.

They waited and waited until finally one of Sherlock's homeless associates texted in. John jumped at the phone's loudly bleeping and sat looking at his friend with hope. Sherlock had been texted a list of hotels within 10 miles of lakes in the middle of Scotland. There were 12 that matched the right soil and water types but only 4 that were isolated and currently abandoned or currently out of use.

Although the list was now considerably condensed they still had 4 hotels and no room for error.

Molly was left alone in the cold, dark, and empty room, still tied up to the chair. She would be left alone for hours on end, only getting human company when one of Jim's henchmen, Sebastian Moran, came in and fed her bread and water.

At first on his entrance, she had not recognised him but once when he had lifted her chin rather violently out of aggression she got a proper look. The blonde cropped hair flashed into her mind from the bar and she recoiled from his grip.

"You're the-" She gasped.

"Shut up." He muttered as he gave a stinging slap across her face.

She had then learned to keep quiet unless addressed directly.

Being left alone in this dark room without so much as a whisper of human contact was doing things to her. Moriarty had left alone with nothing but her thoughts. She could only think of the betrayal that Sherlock had committed against her. Yet another part of herself was outraged that she had the audacity to feel betrayed. Sherlock was not tied to her in any shape or form. He had made that painstakingly obvious.


	15. Chapter 15

"You do count. You've always counted."

Not enough for you to save me, Molly thought. Thinking was all she could do at the moment and that was dangerously painful in the situation, like it wasn't already. She was completely alone with her mind and with no distractions, no boundaries of where it could stray to, she let it wander into the darkest cave of thought. Sherlock didn't care if she was dead or alive.

She was digging herself a grave and continued to do so each minute she was left alone in the silent void of this room, like a black hole, there was nothing more than darkness and herself alone trapped here until. Her thought process stopped suddenly. Until what? she questioned.

Her belief in Sherlock Holmes was low, she was giving up on him, giving up hope that he would save her. For all she knew he was glad she was gone. That triggered the tears again, always coming and going. She was an emotional wreck.

Hope, she thought bitterly. I shouldn't know the meaning of the word. It was hope that had gotten her into this mess, hope certainly wasn't going to get her out of it.

Just at that moment Moriarty strode into the room briefly letting in little light that followed him before he slammed the iron cast door shut.

"Molly, good news for you. I've just received word that Sherlock is on his way to collect to. Nice of him to consider you isn't it, sweetie?" He mocked rubbing his together.

Molly said nothing her eyes downcast for fear of catching Moriarty's eye. She simply sniffled in response.

"Oh woe is her. Molly dear you ought not to be crying over him you know." Moriarty bent down and tilted her face up softly, she didn't know whether it was more frightening when he wasn't violent with her than when it was. He stared deep within her, eye to eye, man to woman, guilty to innocent.

"You and me would have been wonderful, Molly. You know that right? Shame you had to trust Sherlock and break it off." He continued to stare at her, loving the way her pupils dilated, and her heart beat with fear. He silently stood, leaving Molly once more, leaving through a back room that had previously been concealed with debris.

Molly's sleeping pattern had be destroyed, she was now only briefly sleeping for up to an hour long each time. She slept curled in on herself, the chair proving to be very uncomfortable, she could sleep better if she let her head lie back but the sensation of sleeping with her throat exposed made her fearful of even sleeping. She was too exhausted at this moment to begin to reason with herself as why not to sleep. She wanted the escape it brought and so she let it consume her into darkness.

Molly awoke rapidly by the noise. Moriarty was standing nearly 2 feet behind her ordering what sounded to be a group of possibly 3 to 5 men.

"I want you to alert me when he arrives. If he sees you, well you may as well kill yourself for what I will do will be much worst. You do not interrupt our meeting until you are given the signal from me. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes boss." The gruff voices replied in uniform before they ran passed Molly and out the iron cast door that was infront of her.

"What about me, Jim." The blonde guy from before asked.

"I have one job for you, Sebby. You let Sherlock enter alone and leave alone." Moriarty coldly replied.

With those few icy words her fate was sealed. She was a dead girl.

Molly was paralysed with fear, she felt as if everything inside of her and stopped completely. She let out a breath, hating how it shook the air and how her finger trembled.

***

A loud bleep from where Moriarty stood erupted into the room. He spoke with a grin on his face as he walked around her like a shark ready to bite.

"Ahh Molly you're awake. Sherlock's here now, come to save you. Don't worry pet. Death isn't as bad as you think." He laughed menacingly knowing how much the words stung her with their venom.

Molly stared at the floor, she knew what was coming and rather not see the man she once believed in. She heard the groan of the iron cast door opening and the prominent clack of his shoes against the cold concrete. Molly sucked in a breath as she prepared herself for the showdown, she had no idea what would happen she only knew that the end result was her death.

"Well well, look who decided to turn up Mols? It's you're prince charming come to save you." Moriarty said with over enthusiastic glee. "Although," He continued as he bent down to whisper in Molly's ear. "We both know that this isn't a fairy tale sweet heart. Let me ask you a question, Sherlock? Did you know little Mousy Molly was gone?"

"Of course." Sherlock answer in a tone that boarded on bored.

"Oh really?"

"You're probably wondering how I knew she was kidnapped before you sent the clues but you see you have yet again underestimated my Molly and sadly so have I. And as truly sorry that I am for having caused to her but it saved her life."

"Honestly I'm not wondering at all but I know you love to show off so come on Sherlock enlighten us all."

"Molly would never say she is perfect because she hardly believes she is perfect. Sadly my scorning of her for many years has had consequences and she believes now that she is not perfect, in fact she thinks it in adequately so. Hence why she always tries her best. Molly would never say she is perfect because she believes she is far from that. And that is entirely my fault. But I have come to take her back."

Moriarty and Molly were both in shock at what had just come out of Sherlock's mouth. Neither of them had expected Sherlock to pay attention to the little things. Molly was embarrassed that he could still pin her down to a T.

"Now let her go."

Moriarty stared at him for a few moments, sizing up his opponent before he continued on his own tangent, ignoring Sherlock's request.

"You know me and little Molly have had a chat. Girl gossip and such" He teased shrugging his shoulders. "And something makes me believe that Molly doesn't want to go home with you. Isn't that right Mols?" Moriarty whispered to her venomously.

He clasped her face in his claws jerking her head up so Sherlock could see her red swollen eyes.

Molly let her eyes roam over Sherlock, his clean, cut, crisp suit and luscious curled raven hair, a gun in hand pointed perfectly at Moriarty. He was nothing less than a hero in her eye and in that moment she fell all over again, willing to do anything for this man.

Moriarty paused for a moment taking in Sherlock's reaction before throwing her head back down. She let her head drop silently back down so that her hair covered her face.

"What have you done to her?" Sherlock commanded thought gritted teeth as he tried to keep calm and not let Moriarty have the satisfaction of a reaction from the great Sherlock Holmes.

"Me? I've done nothing but talk to the darling girl. You're the one who made her like this."

"What are you talking about? Tell me."

"Oh no Sherlock, if you can't remember then you shouldn't be allowed to be told. Isn't that true Molly?" He asked throwing a glance over his shoulder to the silent and still Molly.

"Tell me!" Sherlock roared increasingly growing impatient.

"This is getting tedious, Sherlock and I have bigger things on my mind. You didn't really think it would be this simply would you? Poor, poor Sherlock. Not even you noticed what had gone missing from your life."

Sherlock clenched his jaw in fear. "What do you mean? Nothing's gone missing from my life except my Molly who I would very much like back."

"Oh, I suppose you are right. Nothing has gone missing from your life, although I can't say the same thing about your blogger John's." Moriarty said snapping his fingers once before Mary was violently shoved to the ground with an audible thud. She was gagged and her wrists tied together by coarse rope that was obviously too tight and cutting into her wrists. She looked up terrified of this man who had held her captive.

Sherlock shifted his stance and held the gun tighter for his own comfort. Mary had been an unaccounted variable. The idea that she may have been abducted too had never crossed his mind. At the time Molly had been his only concern.

"You see Sherlock, I had never planned on hurting Molly. I had something better planned." He said with a devilish smirk.

"Which is?"

"You get to kill her."

"This plan is absurd. I would never hurt Molly in any way."

"I was hoping you would say that. What's that old saying, Sherlock? Surely you must know. 'The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men. Gang aft agley, An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain'".

Sherlock echoed Moriarty with a civil tongue. "The best laid plans of mice and men. Often Go awry, And leave us nothing but grief and pain."

"Truer words have never passed your lips Sherlock. You see I knew that you would never hurt Molly without a motive and I thought to myself, who would Sherlock never want to hurt more than Molly?"

"John." Sherlock whispered.

"Someone give Sherlock a gold star." Moriarty mocked as he clapped his hands in delight. "The choice is entirely yours. Who do you Kill Sherlock? Molly or Mary? Yourself or your best friend?"

"I will not participate in little game of yours Moriarty! Let them both go. Now."

"You never did understand, did you Sherlock? It's not a little game anymore." Moriarty said slightly shaking his head at him. "Oh no, Sherlock. I want you to suffer. Now choose before I decide to kill both." He continued, now revealing two small red dots aimed perfectly on their heads.

Sherlock glanced at the women, gripping his gun tightly in hand in despair. He couldn't save them both. He had fallen into a situation where he could never win. Each and every outcome was as torturous as the other.

"Sher-Sherlock." Molly whispered hoarsely as she lifted her head slowly in realisation.

"Molly I-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish. Molly was sweet at heart but the pet names were true, she only had so much courage in her and this was going to take all her might. She took a deep breath, know what she had to do.

"T-think about this logically."

"What are you saying Molly?" He asked, both shocked and offended. "This is void of logic! There is nothing more here than insanity!"

"John adores M-Mary, w-we both know that. I know you know that John lights up like a Christmas tree when he's with her. They have a future, a promising one too. Mine looks a little d-dull from where I'm standing."

"Then you are not positioned in the right place, of course."

"She saved him, Sherlock. You left him and he was heartbroken and she saved him. You can't take that away from him. He would – He would never forgive you."

"Molly, I can't." He whispered to her desperately. Trying to make her understand that the world would have to stop turning before he could hurt her again.

"Sherlock I just wanted to say that before you do. That I- I love you. With all my heart."

"Molly please listen."

"Just do it Sherlock!" Molly shouted ignoring any and all of his pleading attempt with her.

In that moment without a hint of hesitation Sherlock pulled the gun to his temple holding the cool barrel pressed closely against his head.

"Sherlock stop it you idiot!"

"It's the only solution Molly."

"No it's not. I am replaceable whereas you are not."

"You are not replaceable to me!" He shouted before taking a calming breath.

The explosive sound of the gun firing filled the room, followed by a scream and the splatter of blood against the wall.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by my good friend pikachow.


End file.
